"
"Oh, let it go," said Dunn. "That'll be all right. You get right away
home for your tub and get freshened up for to-night. I'll look after
Cameron. You know he is down for the pipes. He's simply got to be there
and I'll get him if I have to bring him in a crate, pipes, kilt and
all."
And Nesbitt, knowing that Dunn never promised what he could not fulfil,
went off to his tub in fair content. He knew his captain.
As Dunn was putting on his coat Rob came in, distress written on his
face.
"Are you going to get Cameron, Jack?" he asked timidly. "I asked
Nesbitt, and he said--"
"Now look here, youngster," said his big brother, then paused. The
distress in the lad's face checked his words. "Now, Rob," he said
kindly, "you needn't fret about this. Cameron is all right."
The kind tone broke down the lad's control. He caught his brother's
arm. "Say, Jack, are you sure--he didn't--funk?" His voice dropped to a
whisper.
Then his big brother sat down and drew the lad to his side, "Now listen,
Rob; I'm going to tell you the exact truth. CAMERON DID NOT FUNK. The
truth is, he wasn't fit,--he ought to have been, but he wasn't,--and
because he wasn't fit he came mighty near quitting--for a moment, I'm
sure, he felt like it, because his nerve was gone,--but he didn't.
Remember, he felt like quitting and didn't, And that's the finest thing
a chap can do,--never to quit, even when he feels like it.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26